His Visitor
by jazziisms
Summary: Stiles gets an unexpected visitor. Takes place during Silverfinger. A 'Where was Lydia' idea. Stydia oneshot!


**I missed my bby Lydia in Silverfinger :3**

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><p>"How is he doing?" Lydia asked, her purse slung over her shoulder. She hadn't been at school today, but after a text from Stiles, she found herself rushing to the hospital. She stood with Mama McCall outside the patient's room, and her gaze kept flickering to the window. She really cared for Stiles, appreciating him in her life more and more everyday. The banshee considered him someone she held close and dear, and it was amazing that she would never have given him the time of day not two years ago.<p>

"He's fine," said Ms. McCall. "He's been restless lately so I helped put him to sleep."

Lydia slowly nodded, her eyes glassy. She had a pretty good feeling why. Did Melissa know about the hallucinations? How much was she aware?

"You can visit him if you want, but I'm not sure if he'll be that responsive."

"Thank you," said Lydia with a tight smile, and Melissa rubbed her arm reassuringly before she returned to her desk.

Lydia braced herself before she turned the doorknob carefully, stepping inside. She made sure she was light on her heels, which wasn't that difficult, and closed the door behind her.

Stiles lay unmoving in the bed, his slowly heaving chest the only sign that he was still breathing. He looked peaceful, utterly peaceful, and her hands ached to touch his face; his hair.

As she inched closer to the bed, Stiles shifted, his head tilted in her direction-but he didn't wake. Once near the bed, she reached out and cupped her fingers around his. Touching him was so new to her, yet they have been doing it naturally for the past...well, school year. In situations, she'd find herself holding his hand, the sleeve of his jacket. She even threw herself onto him before the explosion could kill him. Now, she would be the one initiating some form of physical contact, pulling him along casually by the hand for the briefest of moments. And when they were in the forest together, when she stood, shaking, with her foot in the trap...She had complete faith in him even when he doubted himself, and she remembered the relieved feeling of her jumping into his awaiting arms just as the deadly trap snapped shut. Their faces were pressed together, her breathing erratic, and they shared a look before he rubbed her back in reassurance.

And she never forgot about the kiss. That warm, sweet kiss...Stiles was in a panic attack, and she kissed him upon impulse. At least he held his breath.

It still...intrigued her. She had a guilty pleasure of looking at his lips, wondering what they would feel like actively against hers...and then she would brush it off. But whatever feelings she had developed for him were still there.

"Hey..." Her voice wavered, keeping her voice soft as she squeezed his hand gently. "I got here as soon as I could. How are you doing?"

In response, much to her shock, his hand squeezed hers back with the weakest of pressure.

She leaned closer, now griping his hand with two of hers.

Stiles's eyes fluttered, and it took a while before they opened. His gaze, although heavily lidded from sleep, settled on her green orbs.

"Hey..." His voice cracked, but she could easily sense the happiness in his broken tone.

"Hey." She smiled at him, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Am I dreaming again?" he continued groggily. "The last time you were here...you weren't really here..."

Lydia was now curious. "When was that?" she pressed.

"It was a while ago...Couldn't tell between dreams and reality..." He closed his eyes. "The first time I thought I woke up..."

He didn't finish right away.

"The first time you thought you woke up...?" she echoed, and his eyes opened again.

"You were...in bed...with me..." he croaked.

Her heart fluttered a little, feeling warm inside. It was so cliche, but she couldn't help the way she felt.

"That's how I know I'm dreaming now," he sluggishly continued. "You're always there with me before something...goes bad."

"Stiles, I'm here, okay?" she told him. "You're not at home. You're at the hospital..."

"I...I checked in with...with..."

"Scott's mom, right. She put you to sleep because you've been sleep deprived. You texted me sometime during that, so I came."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just...just too good to be true...And I just-"

She put a finger on his lips. "You should go back to sleep. Okay?"

His brown doe eyes watched her every movement, his body feeling like weights were being put on him; she was climbing in. In his feeble attempts, his hand eagerly tugged on hers so she could join him.

Now he found himself curled up against the girl of his dreams, his head nooked in the cushion that was her soft chest, her fingers stroking his hair soothingly. Her scent was all around him, soothing him, relaxing him. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes, and managed to sling an arm around her waist; her lips brushed against the top of his head.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Lydia tilted his face up, her hand cupping his cheek. She stared down at him, and he up at her. Her gaze dropped...and she couldn't look away this time. Instead, she just leaned closer, all the while gauging his reaction. Taking his closing lids as an open invitation, she closed the space between them completely and kissed his mouth softly.

And this kiss was even better than the last.

She kissed him to let him know that she was there for him, that she was really here, and that she cared, that she...

The paralysis started to go away, because Stiles was kissing her back a little more firmly, his fingers playing with the back of her shirt.

"You're welcome," she breathed against his lips, and Stiles' breathy moan of surprise had her dip her head for more, her fingers smoothing down his arms now. She made every move gentle and sweet, because he deserved this, and she didn't want to overwhelm him.

She pulled back to see her lipstick smudged on his lips, stiffling a giggle.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"You got a little..." She wiped his lips with her thumb. While on his bottom lip, his mouth puckered against hers, kissing her skin. Her hand traced over his jawline, and he turned his head to kiss her wrist, his fingers curving around hers to keep her there. She watched him display his affections, and she couldn't help but smile some.

Stiles sniffed the faint scent of her perfume, closing his eyes. He knew he was about to go to sleep again. But he was afraid that if he went to sleep then she wouldn't...

"Stay," he finished his thoughts in a whisper, out loud.

"I will," she reassured him.

He fell asleep spooning her, and she ended up going under as well; their fingers laced together on Lydia's stomach.


End file.
